Thursday, 28 January 2010

Mr. Friend of a Friend: More Than Friends?

Whilst I'm deciding whether or not to go out this weekend, I thought I'd treat you to the final dating disaster from the last time I was single. This one still makes me cringe to this day...

I think that some men are best left well alone. These men include members of your family, weird men that sit alone on park benches, and friends of friends that are mildly obsessed with you.

I’m not blowing my own trumpet but I’d kind of had the feeling for a few months that Beth’s friend John liked me, and even though I didn’t fancy him I didn’t exactly discourage his attentions. In all honesty I found it all extremely flattering, and sometimes I’d sit and daydream about him in a way that almost convinced me that there might be something there. It’s a big ego boost for a girl who’s had her heart bruised and her self-esteem squashed by the love of her life to have a guy always asking after her, blushing when she talks to him and being fascinated by every word that passes her lips. I’ve never been an object of desire like that before and it felt good. I put to the back of my mind the fact that I didn’t fancy him remotely as I figured it wasn’t something that I’d have to deal with. Instead I could pretend that I was wandering round in blissful ignorance about the whole thing and laugh it off if anyone dared to even suggest that he might have a bit of a thing for me.

The flirting had been going on for months, and John had developed a sudden interest in rugby and had started to support the same team as me. Hell, he even came to matches and bought a replica shirt. All the signs were there, but I just played along thinking that he was just being sweet and that there was nothing serious going on, all the while enjoying all the attention.

It was on a night out with some of my friends from university that things all came to a head. John sent me a text to ask if I was out in town that night, and the half tipsy me replied :

“Yes, why don’t you come out....”

I’d been telling my friends all about him, and wanted a second opinion I suppose. I knew deep down that I didn’t fancy him, but with a few vodkas pumping their way round my system he was starting to become an increasingly more attractive proposition. I can see how wooing used to work in the old days, as I think perseverance really can wear a girl down so that she eventually yields to the most persistent of suitors. Well, when she’s half-cut at least. John met us in the club that we were in, and I introduced him to my friends and we all danced for a bit.

After a while, my mate Amrit pulled me to one side and warned me to be careful as she sensed that he definitely wanted to be more than just a friend.

“Do you think so?” I slurred....

“Yes. Definitely,” was her response.

Why I did this I will never know, but I marched right up to him and said:

“You fancy me, don’t you?” and looked at him straight in the eye.

The poor f*cker didn’t stand a chance.

“Er, yeah,” he replied, and before he had a nanosecond to register what just happened I launched myself at him and was slobbering all over his face. (I was drunk. I wasn’t being alluring).

We locked tongues for about ten minutes (I might have been pissed, but he wasn’t a great kisser by anyone’s standards) then it dawned on me what I was doing:

Shit. You are snogging a friend of a friend that you do not fancy at all. He’s not just a random bloke that you can hide from in the loos until he goes away. You are going to see him again. It is going to be toe-curlingly embarrassing. He is going to think that you fancy him. He is going to want to TAKE YOU OUT ON A DATE.

F*CK.

F*CK.

F*CK.

So what did I do?

I ran off to the toilets and hid.

I had been avoiding John by skulking about in the Ladies for a good thirty minutes when my friend Amrit eventually came and found me.

“You know, John’s wondering where the hell you’ve gone to. What the hell are you doing? Why did you kiss him? You don’t even fancy him!”

I know. I KNOW!

Amrit and I headed back to the dance floor, and I strategically placed at least two people in between John and me at all times for the rest of the night. I thought I might have got away with it, until we were all getting in a taxi at the end of the evening, as John assumed that he was invited back to my place and tried to climb in with us. I can only thank my lucky stars that the taxi driver (for once) was on my side.

“Only 4 in the taxi mate. No room! No room!” Joe le Taxi yelled at John as he tried to squeeze in.

Phew. Thank God we didn’t hail a 5 seater. I pulled the door shut and John waved us off, looking slightly pissed off. (Cheeky bastard. Did he think I was going to shag him that night? Charming.)

The next day I think that even an intravenous drip would have failed to rehydrate me I felt so rough. I lay in bed until mid afternoon, piecing together all the hideous bits of the night before. It must have been about 4pm when my phone pinged with an incoming text message:

John:

Hey how are you? Great night last night. Can I take you out next week for a meal or something? Jx

AAAAAGGH! There it was. How on earth do I play this one? I decided that the best course of action was radio silence, so I ignored it.

The day after.

Ping.

John:

Hello hope you’re OK. Didn’t hear back from you yesterday... So which days are good for you next week? Jxx

Two kisses this time. Hmm, slightly more insistent. I thought it best to reply as I couldn’t ignore him forever. Let’s blame the alcohol. Yeah, good idea...

Hi, yeah I had a good night thanks. Really enjoyed catching up with my uni mates and I was so drunk! Sorry I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Think it’s best if we just stay friends.

I felt like such a bitch, and I know that I probably was. However, I didn’t see what was about to happen next and none of my friends did either. I thought that John might lie low for a couple of weeks and lick his wounds, maybe not come out as much to start off with and definitely stop going to watch the rugby, but what actually happened was unprecedented and might I add completely weird. John fell off the face of the earth for six months. SIX MONTHS!

No-one heard from him. He went down to London to work for a bit and stayed with family and didn’t get in touch with anyone. Even Beth couldn’t get hold of him and they’d been really good mates for years.

When John eventually came back, he met up with Beth and told her that me messing him around had been the last thing in a long list of things that had gone wrong and he just needed to get away for a while. Fair enough, I thought, we’ll at least be able to be civil to each other when we meet, and I’m sure he’ll understand that I still wasn’t 100% after splitting up from the Evil Cockbag (even though we’d been separated for about five months when John and I kissed). Hey it was a good reason and I was sticking to it!

I was round at Beth and Rob’s one night just for a bit of a catch up, and we were sat in the lounge when there was a knock on the back door and a “Hello” as it opened. We all looked at each other as we knew it was John, and this would be the first time I’d seen him since he’d been back. Beth and Rob were sat on the sofa, and I was on the chair facing them. As John walked through the kitchen he saw me, and stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway to the lounge. I said hi, and he responded, but he couldn't look me in the eye. He focussed on Beth, and even when I asked him a question he replied whilst looking at her. Very strange. You won’t turn to stone if you look at me you know! John must have stayed all of two minutes before he made an excuse and left. As soon as the door shut we all burst out laughing.

Jesus, is that the effect I have on men? Beth and Rob assured me that John was just being weird and all I’d done was kiss him. Even though he’s a friend of a friend and therefore should come with a gold stamp of approval, it just goes to show that some people have a little too much crazy in them. He’s back living up north now and has a new girlfriend who he’s been seeing for a couple of years, however if we ever bump into each other it’s always really awkward. I don’t want to think that I had such an impact on someone but maybe I did? Or maybe he’s just a bit weird and can’t get over any kind of rejection. Who knows...? Either way this whole situation left me feeling like such a cow and I don’t want to go down the route of leading someone on like that again just to make myself feel good, so sorry John, you know who you are.

Points to note

• An ego-boost is all well and good, but I shouldn’t be so wrapped up in it that I stomp on other people’s feelings

14 comments:

What a story---some guys really fall hard and don't know what to do with themselves when they are rejected. He's probably just embarrassed. Well, he has a girlfriend now, so that's good. Thanks for sharing!

loving your posts...and they make me SO happy i found mister right twenty years ago... he started out a 7 or so and is now a perfect 10! i can't let him go. besides, i don't think i could take that journey again... and also thanks for the post on our blog about daphne our big beautiful pup wearing a bridal veil: http://elopetosandiego.blogspot.com/x0x0christine

I think that most men are very susceptible catching feelings for women. That's why so many will just disappear after intimacy. I think that they are asses because they are covering up their feminine side. Then their are the 'Johns' who choose to just be feminine. It was just a kiss.

About Me

Newly single and rapidly approaching my thirtieth birthday, I’ve realised that I need a new game plan in order to find the drop dead gorgeous, rugby-playing boyfriend that I’ve been lusting after for years. Or at the very least: a man just like him...